


Calming The Dog

by FleasCanBite



Series: Drugs, Sex and Politics [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Prequel, Rape, The beginning of Enjolras the sexual dynamo of the land of boopin town, basically everyone fucks up their lives, slowly but surely, spinning metal down the free way btw, weeeeeeeeeeeee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleasCanBite/pseuds/FleasCanBite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pre-part to my Les Miserables series deal thats going on right now. </p><p>In Highschool, Jehan Prouvaire moves to London still yet to be fluent in english and makes friends with folks, Grantaire the drunk kinda pervy kinda super depressed student who has been floating from foster home to foster home, Enjolras the perfect student who's weakness is that drunk kid who keeps bugging him, Combeferre the voice of reason, and Montparnasse the boy who gets people into too much trouble.<br/>stuff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Said It Was ours

He was new to school, his long blonde hair braided to the side loosely, wearing mismatched clothing he'd gotten from the op-shop. His face hung low with tears in his minty eyes and his lips quiverred in sadness. This was the young, Jean Prouvaire.

Sitting in his new class, french class it was, he wondered why they let him take this course as his language credit. Afterall, french was his first language. So he didn't pay attention to the class. He just monitered the room looking at his new peers. off

There was an attractive blonde sitting near the front, quick to answer each of the questions that the teacher asked. There was a sickly looking boy who sat in the back with a smile drawing on the desk. Jehan was wondering if the sick boy was drawing the blonde. It looked enough like him. 

Jehan looked at his own desk to see if the boy had sketched anything into it. He found on the inside of the desk "Apollo is my god-R" he wondered what that meant. So he raised his hand to ask the question, he wasn't exactly sure what it meant.

"excusez-moi professeur, qu'est-ce que "Apollo is my god" signifie en anglais?" Jehan spoke quickly, most of the other students were stunned by his fluency. 

"Oh.. Um. That means we have to give you a new desk and Mr.Trembley over there can go down to the principals office." the teacher said. 

* * *

Grantaire walked down the hallway and into the principals office.

"hey its me again, apollo is my god and shit" Grantaire said casually, the secritary glared at him and put him in the detention room where he sung songs loudly. 

He grabbed a joint out of his pocket and then a lighter and began to light it. He hid it when the secritary came to check on him. 

"Whats that I smell Mr.Trembley?" She said with a 'who farted' look on her face.

"OH. you're getting the wrong idea, its Hemp lotion, really good for the skin and such." Grantaire was good at bullshitting. "may i go to the loo'?" He asked while rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, just don't tell anyone i let you go in there with your 'hemp lotion'" The secritary said with a sigh. Afterall, she had been the most motherly figure in Young Grantaires life. 

Grantaire locked himself inside a stall and busted the more serious stuff out of his jacket. Needles, and powders. 

* * *

The blonde was sitting at a table with his friends from the debate team. His girlfriend Patria clung to his arm. She was not an actual female, but a textbook the young Enjolras kept on French Revolution, always refering to it as a she, patria, to be more specific. A boy with glasses sat opposite to him and they were debating back and forth the political and philisophical gestures of revolution. 

The boy with glasses, Combeferre, noticed his friend looked more aggitated than usual and decided to interogate him.

"What has got you down my friend?" Combeferre said putting his hand over the blondes who pulled away to make an animated hand gesture.

"I don't know who he thinks he is? Making a fool of me in French class again!" Enjolras sighed with frustration. Combeferre half smiled at his friend acting so strangely.

"What did he do this time?" Combeferre asked, knowing he was in for a mouth full.

"Well first off, this new french student completely defeated my knowledge of the french language!" Enjolras said, Combeferre laughed, Enjolras glared. "Then with his fancy little accent he goes and asks what 'Apollo is my god' means in English." Enjolras said with a snarl to his usually angelic voice. "And then, this is where that waste case comes in again, once  M.Arpin our french teacher sent him out he.. fuck I can't even say it without getting pissed off." Enjolras said putting his hands over his head.

Combeferre smiled taking a drink of his water and closing his eyes under his glasses.

"What did he do this time?" 

"First he ruffles my hair! you know how much I hate it when-" Enjolras was interupted by a hand reaching through the hair on his head. Combeferre was actually terrified by the look on Enjolras's face as he watched the dark haired boy touch the blonde. "Excuse me, Grantaire is it?" Enjolras said breathing heavily out of his nose, nostrils angerly flared, eyes widening.

"Apollo knows my name, what an honor! How'bout you meet me in the bathroom and we can get further aquainted?" Grantaire spoke perversely before Enjolras punched him in the face. Grantaire held his lip which was now bloody and bowed to the blonde. "Always a pleasure dear Apollo, God of sun, light and knowledge" It wasn't long before the blonde grabbed the boy by the neck and pinned him to the wall.

"You will stay the fuck away from me, you're a creep, and I have no need for a perverted creep like yourself." Enjolras said, Combeferre struggling to pull the blonde off of the other boy. 

A firmilliar teacher walked over to Enjolras to question him, it was Ms.Fantine, the political science teacher who majored in womens rights.

"Grantaire, What did you do to Enjolras this time?" Fantine sighed putting her hands to the temples of her skull.

"Its more like what didn't he do to me!" Grantaire said glaring at the blonde. "I come with simple words of love and he jus-" Grantaire was interupted by the on duty teacher.

"Oh really? And these 'words of love'? What did you say exactly to Mr.Labelle?" Fantine asked skeptically.

"I simply asked him if he'd accompany myself to the boys washroom and engage in a small meeting of the sexual nature." Grantaire said calmly pulling a flask out of his oversized sweater and proceeding to take a swig from it before Fantine snatched it out of his hands.

"C'mon Grantaire, you've done enough damage for today. I'm going to have to call your foster parents again." Fantine said quietly to the boy, she pitied him. It wasn't his fault the way he acted, being shifted from house to house, being the constant target of bullies in the school, and of course struggelling with his homosexuality in a world that was full of biggots.

While Grantaire and Fantine walked back to the office they passed the sad looking boy known as Prouvaire, he sat alone on a table eating a weird coloured soup. Both boys looked at eachother, each one with tears, each one a frown worn on their faces. 

* * *

 

Once school was out Grantaire proceeded to follow that same blonde far behind, watching his every movement. His perfection, Grantaire would sketch down little drawings of him while watching the boy move. Each of his lean limbs elegantly striding further down the road, Combeferre, his spectacled friend followed behind him carrying his weight in library books. 

"Enjolras, don't look now, but the creep is behind us." Combeferre spoke under his breath to his friend.

"Fuck. Really? he didn't think he'd assaulted me enough today?" Enjolras instantly filled up with that same anger that always came with the boy known as Grantaire. Combeferre looked back to notice that the dark haired boy had gone away, possibly noticing their conversation.

However, that didn't stop the loud yell that came from the blonde as he stopped dead in his tracks noticing the darked haired boy now stood exactly in front of him.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said.. I'm not usually like that its just.. I don't know how to get your attention. I want you." Grantaire said looking his Apollo in the eyes, those deep blue eyes that held some sort of classical wisdom.

Enjolras scoffed.

"I'm sorry to you, but my bed isn't open to any dunce who thinks they can weasel their way in there." Enjolras said in a tone of pretention. 

"I'm pretty sure your bed isn't open to anyone." Grantaire laughed. "Really though, Your lingering purity is one of the cruelest facts that keeps me up at night." Grantaire said lightly smiling at the blond.

"I don't want to know what you think about at night. Please save me the image." Enjolras said turning around and pulling Combeferre to walk with him.

"Its not just sexual you know." Grantaire yelled from a distance. "I've never felt this way about anyone before." He yelled desperately. "Just please, go out with me once? Anything, for I see no point in living without you by my side!" Grantaire yelled to the blonde who was almost a block away by now. "Okay, Fine, Guess I'm gonna die." 

Enjolras looked back to the drunken boy slowly walking into the busy street. He was about to go help the guy until another dark haired boy with a snakelike face and even worse aura came and helped him out. 

"Grantaire what were you thinking?" Asked the boy who often shared Grantaires company behind the bleachers at school, doing hits of different drugs and fucking until dark. " Was it that fucking blonde again? Do you want me to kill him? I could probably kill him!" Montparnasse, the boy, said with an unsettling smile on his face. 

"C'mon lets go do a few hits okay?" Grantaire said pulling the other boy into the park beside the schoolground.

sitting down Montparnasse opened his bag to a selection of many illicit drugs. He pulled out a mason jar of a beige powder, a heating spoon, and his lighter. 

Grantaire tilted his head questioning the powder, not recognizing it, never having tried the addictive drug before.

"S'Heroin, I got it off of that creepy old man who runs the inn downtown. Wanna try it with me?" Montparnasses patented criminal smile grew large with his eyes. 

Without thinking Grantairie joined Montparnasse, unknowing of the long and arguous journey that would be the love affair of Grantaire and Heroin. 

Once the powder had been melted down, Parnasse put it into one of his syringe needles and smiled at Grantaire. 

"You wanna try it first?" Montparnasse asked offering the needle, Grantaire simply held out his bare arm to the other boy. "Excellent, i've been told this stuff gives a fantastic high, especially the first time." He said searching for a good area on the drunken boys pale arm.

Pressing down on the needle he watched the pupil of Grantaires ice blue eyes shrink below three milimeters. His face lit up with amazement at this. Grantaires usual frown turned into a dazed smile. He fell to the grass and closed his eyes. Montparnasse laughed.

* * *

Jehan, the new student, walked around the area to get used to it. Unacustomed to the english signs and english sites he took many pictures, bright eyes and rosy cheeks, small frame with a dash or two of freckles around his skin confused many people for him as a schoolgirl, not that he minded that much. He'd been curious about the gender binary for a long time, and often went about breaking it to his Fathers distain.

A man wearing a white mask pulled the little french student into an alleyway, instantly frightened, the man covered the boys pretty mouth. 

"Ah, you're a pretty little thing aren't you."

"Prendre mon argent, je ne veux pas d'ennuis!" Jehan struggled to speak behind the mans hand.

"I'm not interested in money really, its a common thing, but a pretty young boy like you isn't."  The man said eyeing the young Prouvaire up and down. The man slipped his hand into his own pants and pushing Jehan down on his knees, tears began to fall from his eyes once more. He shook his head profusely until the masked man pulled a razored knife to the boys neck. "You scream, You make any unwanted noise and I'll slit your throat." He said looking down at the boy. "Now quit crying and suck my cock you little whore!"

The man pulled out his own cock and stood in front of the small boy. He grabbed onto Jehans long ginger hair and knudged him forward, hitting his upper lip against the man. Jehans teary green eyes looked up at him growing more and more sad each time. The man continued to try and get the boy to do what he wanted when he realized it wasn't going to happen. 

The masked man grabbed Prouvaires mouth and pried it open and pulling the back of his neck which led the boys mouth the the mans cock. 

"If you bite, I'll slit your throat." The man reminded the boy, who at this time was completely virginal to any act of sexuality. 

The mans hard cock rubbed against the back of Jehans throat and made the boy gag, still crying, the man pulled the boys head back and forth until he came into the boys mouth. He pulled away and held the young boys mouth closed forcing him to swallow the mans come. Once Jehan had finished the man kicked the boy in the stomach, causing the boys vision to blur and him to become unconcious. 

* * *

"Excuse me, boy, are you alright?" A warm voice asked the boy who now laid on the ground. The boy opened his eyes and looked up to see the gorgeous sight that was Enjolras, with his spectacally friend standing nearby. Enjolras had drug him into the alley way in an attempt of good will and feeding his inner striving vigilantism. "You're the new boy in my french class, tu parle en francais, non?" Enjolras said smiling and patting the boys head. 

"Oui." The boy answered back under his breath which grew faster as he began to hyperventalate. Enjolras held the boy and calmed him with soothing 'shushes' and a nurtering tickle of the back. 

"Tu parle englais?" Enjolras asked simply, not knowing enough french to ask the boy some questions.

"y-yes. Some." Prouvaire stuttered shyly with tears still running down his face.

"Well, you can speak some french to me and I'll speak some english to you, okay?" Enjolras said with a smile and the boy nodded along. "You need to tell me how you managed to end up bloodied in an alley way." Enjolras said more sternly than he previously sounded.

"I was.. umm promenade dans la ville.." The boy struggled with his english, he had a heavy french accent that delighted Enjolras and Combeferre. "A man with.. knife, forced me to do um, choses dégoûtantes." The boy let out a large sigh and then began to cry again. 

"I have to take you to the police alright? quel est votre nom?" Enjolras said tightlipped. 

"Je suis Jean Prouvaire." and with that, they were introduced for the first time.

* * *

A deep panting and hot gasps came from the wooded part of the park near the school. It was the dark lipped boy Montparnasse thrusting roughly into the pale skinned Grantaire. A rhythmic breath that echoed the beat 'Parnasse had been working at came from the boy on the bottom. He proceeded to get louder until he came into his own hands. 

They got dressed once more and parted ways casually waving goodbye to one another.

Grantaire walked up the street from the park and spotted a friend of Montparnasse's, Claquesous, an older guy who could be seen wearing a mask over his face during his dirty deeds.

"Claquesous! Whats going on?" Grantaire shouted to the man. 

"Not much, yourself?" He spoke casually.

"Just got back from meeting 'Parnasse, had a pretty great time." Grantaire added.

"I supose I just returned from a rendezvous of my own." Claquesous said maliciously. "Fine little french boy, probably around fifteen, beautiful mouth if you know what I mean." He snickered.

Grantaire  raised an eyebrow at the man, he was fine with the groups drugs, theivery and the occasional common assault. Grantaire was not fine with rape. It disgusted him. 

"Was this consentual?" Grantaire sneered at the other man.

"He just didn't know he wanted it, I could see it in his face." Claquesous laughed, until Grantaire swung a fist to his face forcing him to caugh up blood and a peice of a tooth. "You're going to pay for that, you know Montparnasse doesn't mind sharing his whores!" Claquesous yelled holding his own mouth and pushing Grantaire up against the cold brick wall. However, Grantaire was used to this, he had learned how to slip out of the perverted hands of Claquesous and run away.


	2. And what else?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prouvaire family deals with what happened to Jehan  
> Combeferre kind of, almost, tells Enjolras his feelings.  
> Grantaire is depressing.  
> Grantaire is depressing.  
> Jehan is too..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna keep making up better and better adjectives for Combeferre.   
> SPECTACCELED  
> SPECATALLY
> 
> those don't even sound like things.

It had been a week since Jehans Father was called into the police station where he'd been told that his son was raped. Sadly, his Father was beyond old fashioned. To him rape only happened during wars between men and women. Jehans Mother was the only one who would have listened to him. So his Father tried to help, it just wasn't in his nature.

"So Papa? Do we get to miss school like Jehan?" One of Jehans older brothers asked with a snicker and snort joined in by his twin.   
Jehan who had finally decided to come out of his room ran back in slamming the door and locking it tightly, slumping down to the carpeted floor and crying. A knock came from the door.

"Jehan, Papa m'a dit de dire que je suis désolé." His brother spoke from behind the door. Jehan simply ordered him away. His brother scoffed walking away saying a few choice words under his own breath. 

Jehan paced around his own small room of their narrow house. He still had the card from his mothers funeral which had only been a short time ago. He looked at her picture on the front of the itinary. Unlike most of the other people in his house, Jehan resembled his mother. Gingery blonde hair with freckles sprinkled over a small body with glowing green eyes. His brothers and his father both were pale and pasty brunettes.   
He sat down on his bed and stared himself in the mirror, touching his bruised face, shuttering and biting his own lip. He'd pick up his notepad and write poetry, that was how Prouvaire escaped the world. 

* * *

The blonde and the spectacled sat in Enjolras's room at his fathers house. They studied french philosophy and scoffed at others. Of course, Enjolras was drawn to ranting of the drunk boy again. 

"Its just.." Enjolras shook his head in a sigh. "I don't understand why he has to bother me.." He asked staring blankly into the ceiling. Combeferre sat up from the other end of Enjolras's bed.

"Well.." Combeferre threw off his own glasses in a nervous attempt at cleaning them. "You are a combination of many admirable things." Combeferre said laughing falsely and looking to the side. Enjolras tilted his head in confusion and intrigue.

"Like what?" The blonde asked stretching his feet near the other boy in a movement of relaxation and comfort.

Combeferre now blushed profusely and stammered around mouthing words before he could actually talk.

"Well, you are intelligent, and well read.. and-" Combeferre started explaining with his eyes closed, because these weren't what first came to mind when he thought of his friend.

"And thats why the drunk is so dead set on getting in my pants? Because i'm smart?" Enjolras questioned skeptically. Giving a small smile to his friend and looking him in the eye.

"Well.. amoung other things." Combeferre choked, ever since the summer of that year he'd developed feelings for the blonde, they'd been friends for years and frankly, Combeferre had no idea of Enjolras's sexuality (or if it even exsisted). 

"Out with it 'Ferre!" Enjolras laughed hitting his friend with his foot.  
Combeferrre fixed his posture and began to clean his glasses once more, avoiding the convesation.

"Combeferre, what is it that you can't tell me? I understand i'm stubborn at times but you know that i'd listen to you whatever it is you have to say about me, I always do listen to you." Enjolras said sitting up looking his friend in the face. 

Combeferre had slipped his hand beneath Enjolras's knee, not a supremely sensual place but to the shy boy it was definetely past the point of return. 

"Um.. Come closer.." Combeferre suggested to his friend, who put on serious eyes that faded to a smile. Combeferre brushed a light blonde curl out of his friends pale face, letting his hand fall at the back of the other boys neck.

Both boys looked eachother wide eyed until closing their eyes and having their lips meet for the first time. Combeferre pulled away fastly with tomato coloured cheeks. 

"Oh god I'm sorry.. I.. Uh-" Combeferre kept trying to come up with excuses until the blonde pulled him into another kiss. "Oh.." Combeferre said with silent shock.

"So? Go on, Why else would the drunk want me?" Enjolras said slyly, while Combeferre staired at his pale lips.   
Combeferre pushed himself into another kiss, this time longer and Enjolras more inviting, Combeferre knocked both himself and the blonde down, with him settled on top of his friend.

"Well.. You're beautiful." Combeferre said with a light pant. 

"Is that all?" Enjolras tilted his head while Combeferre looked down at him. "I hardly think thats enough for that imbecile to bother me." He laughed.

"You're well spoken?" Combeferre said with confusion as the blonde pulled him closer. Moving himself up and biting Combeferre's bottom lip. The philosopher slid his hand from the blondes knee to his upper thigh. "You .. have. a perfect body." he panted feeling his own pants become incredibly uncomfortable and tightened.   
Enjolras, shakingly moving his own hand down his friends abdomin. His jaw quivering looking at his friend in a different light than before. 

"And what would the drunk want to do to me?" Enjolras said gasping for his own breath. 

"Well. . . he'd want to run his hands through your hair.." Combeferre answered grasping at his friends blonde curls. "He'd want to undress you.." He said sliding his hands up his friends shirt, the blonde helped to remove it. 

"continue." Enjolras said biting at Combeferre's neck. Combeferre almost ready to come just based off of that. Definetely not helping as the blonde teased him by lingering around the zipper of his pants.

"He'd want to grab your ass and flip you over.." Combeferre squeeked as Enjolras slipped his hand into Combeferre's pants, "And he'd .." Combeferre wasn't able to finish as he came into his own pants.

"Go clean yourself up." Enjolras said shaking his head and fidgeting with his own jaw.

* * *

 

"Grantaire wake up!" Yelled a voice into the cynics small room. Grantaire pulled his patched browning quilt over his head. 

"Go away." he muffled wiping his own mouth from the drool he'd spat during his sleep. Although, it wasn't exactly a sleep as it was a dead coma. Passing out after a bottle of jamiesons and an unsatisfying wank. 

He walked slowly to the bathroom after his fosters yelled a few more times. His sanguine complexion in the mirror caused by copius ammounts of alcohol. 

Grantaire walked out of the bathroom slacked wearing the same clothes from the night before.

"You're not going to school like that are you?" The woman who'd been 'looking after' him asked.

"Not to school persay'" Grantaire said raising his brow and snatching liquer from the cabinet.  
This was a lie, he wanted people to think he didn't enjoy going to school. However, this was the place he could watch that blonde walk, talk, think and do any other weird things he did. 

Once he'd reached the block that connected to West End highschool he spotted the blonde, his own eyes widening as he seen him. 

"Hey! Enjolras!" He yelled over to the blonde waving like an idiot. Overly excited, like a dog to see his owner. "Hey..!" He said as the blonde and his spectically friend passed by him. "Enjolra-" He stopped as he seen Enjolras quickly grab Combeferres hand.

 _oh god. How was he that stupid, they were constantly together. And that boy was too gorgeous not to have another half already_. Grantaire simply slumped down on the ground.

"What is it?" Combeferre asked quietly looking over to Enjolras, who had already explained to him that their relationship was completely platonic asides from closed doors. 

"Nothing." Enjolras said taking his hand away quickly.

Grantaire had panicked himself over to a corner inbetween windows of the brick school. He'd puke his guts out if he had eaten in the last two days. Dry heaving into the corner keeping himself standing with his hands placed on either sides of the walls. 

Shaking his head, calling himself an idiot. _Fucking idiot, why would you deserve someone like that_? Grantaire kicked the wall and cursed himself for it hurting and breaking his worn in shoe at the toe. 

"Fuck." He yelled. "Just my fucking luck." He said deciding to walk into the school, disregarding any of the 'authority' figures and running straight into the bathroom.   
He slammed the door to a stall and scrambled to gather whatever drugs he'd have in his pockets. He still had the leftover mason jar of heroin that he'd snatched off of Montparnasse the other day in the park, relieved, lining it up and snorting it.

"Fuck!" He yelled, the pain of it much worse than that of snorting cocaine. Almost instantly he grabbed the toilet and finally puked into it, heaving up what seemed like more than his own weight. He wiped his nose over again, running uncontrollably. Clenching his teeth and scrunching his nose when he got his first stomach cramp from the inhaled heroin. 

After a few minutes of complete torture the euphoria set in finally. 

"Oh..Fuck." he sighed to himself, jaw slacked. his ears picked up the sound of another person in the room.

He heard indistinct french babbling. 

"Umm.. Who is it?" Grantaire asked dazily.

"c-can i come in?" The small voice accompanied with a foreign accent asked in tears.

"yes?" Grantaire answered, still unsure if this was actually going on or some weird side effect of the drug. 

The poet Prouvaire stepped in and slumped down beside the dark haired cynic.

The younger boy looked him in the eyes and noticed the small empty pupils that lay in Grantaires ice blue eyes.

"c'mere, i'll look after you." Grantaire said with a hand gesture taking the poet into his arms and beginning to cry himself. _"Do you?"_ He gestured the small mason jar to the smaller boy.

* * *

 


End file.
